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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550225">Bonded</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBWritesStuff/pseuds/PBWritesStuff'>PBWritesStuff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Through A Glass Darkly [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Blow Jobs, But consensual, Dom/sub Undertones, Fighting Kink, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, I feel like I should put a disclaimer here, Klingons have a cultural equivalent to the erastes/eromenos dynamic of ancient Greece, M/M, Mirror Universe, Mirror Worf's opinions about women do not reflect those of the author, Porn With Plot, Violent Sex, Xenophilia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:02:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBWritesStuff/pseuds/PBWritesStuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Q-related accident sends Riker into the Mirror Universe, a world where everyone he knows is the worst version of themselves. With no hope for rescue in sight, Will must do everything in his power to survive long enough to go home.</p>
<p>That includes forging an alliance with the one member of the mirror crew who might be able to help him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Riker/Mirror Worf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Through A Glass Darkly [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this story purely because I wanted mirror Worf and normal Riker to bone, and that's it. Please be aware of canon-typical Mirrorverse stuff and read the tags.</p>
<p>(In my mind, I call this story: that time Riker got stuck in the Mirror Universe and was accidentally gay married.)</p>
<p>Updated 1-3-2021 for minor grammatical changes and to clean up the Klingon language bits.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>Bat'leth-</b><b>LoDni'</b> <em>(noun)</em>: <em>Sword Brother.</em> A ritual in which a Klingon male takes another under his protection and guidance, with the understanding that they will fight as a unit.<br/><br/>In modern days, most Klingons don't bother with having a designated sword brother, because females play an equal role in warfare, and one's wedded mate is just as effective on the battlefield. It has remained through the years as a form of homosexual marriage, because sword brothers and sword sisters have the same rights and privileges under Klingon law that a heterosexual couple have.<br/><br/>The relationship has been compared to similar customs on ancient Earth.<br/><br/></p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>In his home universe, Worf had once told Riker that he'd have made a good Klingon. He'd given a dry laugh, and smiled.<br/><br/>"It's because I don't fear pain." Will had replied flippantly, and Worf had studied him, like he was trying to figure out whether or not he was serious. He'd been thinking back to those cold days in Alaska, bitter in more ways than one, with his father drinking to forget.<br/><br/>If anything, pain reminded him of home.<br/><br/>Mental agony, like the kind he'd been put through when Deanna stared into his eyes and tunnelled into his mind like a mole - that was something he didn't know how to handle. No Starfleet training had prepared him for the way it felt when a Betazoid with no ethical limits penetrated the shields of the mind. It had felt like someone cracked open his skull and took a piece of his brain out with a melon baller, putting it back again, but upside down. <br/><br/>He felt violated.<br/><br/>It came as some relief, then, when he was dragged out onto the bridge and shoved to his knees to wait while the alternate Deanna gave her report to their Picard. At least he could gather his thoughts without the mental onslaught, made worse by a stranger who wore the face of a woman he'd once thought he loved.<br/><br/>From across the room, he met a pair of eyes that were familiar, though they were colder now, crueller. Worf raised a heavy eyebrow, and despite his misgivings, Riker maintained eye contact. In front of a Klingon, it was best to show no fear. Behind him, Deanna was giving her report in a perfectly neutral tone.<br/><br/>"His mind was not guarded against me, Captain, and from what I gather, he <em>is</em> William Riker. Or believes he is, at least."<br/><br/>"But not <em>our</em> Riker." Picard murmured under his breath. "Unless technology can now revive the dead."<br/><br/>"Perhaps he is a clone, sir." Troi responded. "But raised differently than the original Commander."<br/><br/>"The likelihood of that possiblity is around ten million to one. Highly improbable. As the saying goes: my 'money' is on a freak transporter malfunction." Data chimed in from the opposite side of the room, endowed with a confidence that showed he was accustomed to being consulted here. None of the other doppelgangers on the bridge seemed quite so brazen.<br/><br/>"My mental scans seem to show that the imposter believes he came from an alternate universe, though how he arrived here, he cannot recall." Deanna continued.<br/><br/>"And you can't <em>tear</em> the answer from his mind?" The cruel facsimile of Picard insisted. "Is this the fault of your humanity, or a lack of motivation?"<br/><br/>"It isn't my fault at all, Captain. Not even a <em>Vulcan</em> could pull a memory that isn't there." Troi insisted, and Riker knew her counterpart well enough to hear the barely contained frustration in her voice.<br/><br/>"Then is there any way to squeeze some answers out of him? Or do I need to throw him out the airlock?"<br/><br/>Will felt a chill go down his back when the look-alike Picard dropped that ultimatum. He stared at Worf, running through everything he knew about the Klingon language, and Worf in particular. He needed just the right effect without butchering what he was trying to say.<br/><br/>"There's nothing more I can do, sir." Deanna answered calmly.<br/><br/>"We might try a more <em>traditional</em> interrogation method." Data added, doing a good job of conveying eager anusement with a delicate attention to his facial expression.<br/><br/>Picard smiled at him, in a way not unlike a proud father.<br/><br/>"I'm afraid it wouldn't do much good, Data. You <em>broke</em> the last man you tried to interrogate."<br/><br/>"I simply don't know my own strength." The android replied coolly.<br/><br/>Riker ran through the verb conjugations in his mind while the others talked about what fate would await him next. He powered through the migraine that his telepathic interrogation had drilled into his braincells, and pulled up all the vocabulary he knew, to piece together a traditional Klingon oath of fealty. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but it wasn't hard to propel himself into a deep bow in front of Worf, similar to the most elaborate bow of the ancient Japanese, with heels tucked beneath him, forehead touching the floor.<br/><br/><em>"Nach ki'von</em>, <em>juH kach</em><em> bat-LEH! SuH</em><em> shuVak, Mat-LEH gi-Hegh</em>!"<br/><br/>"You speak Klingon?" Worf exclaimed, and Picard snapped his head towards the ruckus.<br/><br/>"Do you two <em>know</em> each other?" The captain growled in a way that Riker knew suggested suspicion. His own captain had a similar inflection.<br/><br/>"I swear upon my honor that I have never met this man!" The Klingon exclaimed, tensing like a threatened animal. "His resemblance to the late Commander is unsettling."<br/><br/>Riker had no choice but to try again.<br/><br/>"<em>Nach ki'von</em>, <em>juH kach bat-LEH!</em><em>" </em>He exclaimed, in his best pronunciation. "On my knees, I throw myself upon the honor of your house!"<br/><br/>"Worf...?" Picard murmured again, in a slow, intimidating drawl.<br/><br/>"<em>SuH shuVak, </em><em>Mat-LEH gi-Hegh!" </em>Riker continued. "I am prepared to serve, I will be loyal until death!"<br/><br/>There was silence, and Will said the final part of the intricate oath.<br/><br/><em>"Bat'leth-LoDni' Damoj vineH."</em> I want to become your sword-brother.<br/><br/>"Sir," Worf began, looking warily at the captain, without changing his tense posture. "I believe this falls under Klingon Law, an area in which the Empire is bound by treaty to non-interference."<br/><br/>"And if I were to tresspass on such an formality?" The captain asked casually, causing Worf to frown and look away.<br/><br/>"That is your prerogative, sir." He said, and the unspoken words hung in the air like smoke in a closed room.<br/><br/><em>Not that I can do anything to stop you.</em><br/><br/>"Very well then." Picard said, in a voice that was smug and amused, as if Worf's easy capitulation was entertaining. His next words were the voice of finality.<br/><br/>"Do as you see fit, Worf."<br/><br/>Riker felt relief surge through every muscle in his body, and he sagged, not sure he was strong enough to pull himself out of the intricate kneel with the strain that had recently been put on his stamina by the telepathic interrogation. Worf crouched down to his level, and dragged him up by the collar of his uniform, so that they would be eye to eye.<br/><br/>"How the <em>fuck</em> did you learn that?" Worf growled under his breath, and Riker was keenly aware of the eye-contact as he swallowed. "Be aware that I'm about five seconds away from disembowling you where you kneel, <em>p'tak</em>."<br/><br/>"I was once told that if I ever needed help, I could invoke the Bat'leth-LoDni'tay. The sword brother ritual." Will replied. <em>His</em> Worf had once told him so, at least, and the words had an effect on the alternate Klingon before him.<br/><br/>"<em>TaH-qek</em>! Liar!" Worf shouted, and took Riker by the throat, shaking him hard.<br/><br/>"If it helps, he <em>isn't</em> lying, Worf." Deanna said, amusement in her voice, and she strolled out of the room smirking. Will heard the doors close behind her.<br/><br/>"Mr. Worf, please finish your <em>business</em>, and get back to duty." The Captain murmured.<br/><br/>The Klingon growled an assent, and summoned over a security officer to take Riker away.<br/><br/>"Have him secured in my quarters. I'll deal with this later."<br/><br/><em>Oh, good</em>. <em>A rest. </em>Will thought, as he was hauled shakily to his feet and frogmarched away from the bridge.<br/><br/>The security detail threw him into the room and left, not bothering to speak to him, or remove the cuffs. At least he wasn't secured to anything. That left him free to wander the room (although it wasn't very different from a typical room on the Enterprise, save for a swap of palette and iconography.)<br/><br/>Eventually, he decided to curl up on the bed and take a nap.<br/><br/>Hours later, Riker awoke to the feeling of being shoved out of the bed and onto the carpeted floor with a thud. He looked up into the grim face of the alternate Worf, who grimaced as he watched Will get to his feet, still handcuffed. (And <em>that</em> was starting to get on his nerves. Why wouldn't they just put him in a holding cell with a forcefield? Convenience? Cruelty? A poor sense of humor?)<br/><br/>"If you're looking for <em>protection</em>, human, you've chosen the wrong guardian." Worf snarled under his breath. "I don't know what things are like on <em>your</em> planet, but here, we are a subjugated people."<br/><br/>"You said yourself that you have rights under the law!" Riker ground out, feeling a pit of dread begin to creep in his stomach, as he remembered the scene on the bridge.<br/><br/>"And you saw for yourself how easily the captain flaunts the façade of those laws." Worf replied, flippant. "Besides, I don't think you have <em>any</em> idea what you're asking for."<br/><br/>"The Klingon who told me about the rite said it was a way of binding two warriors in brotherhood."<br/><br/>"At its most simplistic, that is correct, though the title for this rite does not convey the intricate subtext. The sword brother ritual is used to bind two Klingon males in a long-term relationship. Usually, a long-term <em>sexual</em> relationship."<br/><br/>"Oh." Riker murmured, a bit dazed. <em>Worf</em> had been <em>propositioning</em> him. His Worf, in the other timeline, had wanted to have sex. With <em>him</em>.<br/><br/>Before he could think about the implications of a different Worf in a different place and time, he had to focus on this Worf, here and now.<br/><br/>"It is understandable to fear Klingon sexual rites. They are often painful, even for <em>our</em> kind." The alternate Worf stated bluntly, almost proudly.<br/><br/>"Hey now, let's get one thing straight: I don't <em>fear</em> Klingon sex, okay? I was just a bit surprised." Will retorted. It wasn't a bluff either, he'd had sex with Klingon females before, and while a male would surely be different, he wasn't <em>afraid</em> of it.<br/><br/>And just like that, he had moved on from confusion to indignation, to logistics.<br/><br/>"I assume male Klingons have a phallic organ of some kind?" Riker asked, to Worf's shocked stare.<br/><br/>"That is far from the point, human! I have not agreed to keep you <em>breathing</em>, much less <em>ritually</em> bonded to me!" Worf huffed. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you to the wolves!"<br/><br/>Riker narrowed his eyes and met Worf's gaze without hesitation.<br/><br/>"You said it yourself. The Captain was willing to ignore a legal treaty just to spite you. I imagine that makes it rather easy to get stabbed in the back."<br/><br/>"And you propose to watch it for me?"<br/><br/>"In return, you keep me from getting thrown out the airlock."<br/><br/>"There is only one way this arrangement can work." The mirror Worf argued. "You are only protected by Klingon law if you are truly my bonded <em>Bat'leth-LoDni'.</em> It is dishonorable to lie about such a thing. And <em>beyond</em> dangerous."<br/><br/>Will shrugged.<br/><br/>"Okay. So we watch each others' backs and both get laid. That doesn't <em>sound</em> like a drawback."<br/><br/>Worf's glare intensified, if that was possible, and he growled low in his chest.<br/><br/>"Do not take this lightly, human. You might not be so pleased when you see the first sign of Klingon possessiveness."<br/><br/>Riker felt exactly opposite. In fact, the thought of <em>Klingon possessiveness</em> made a pleasant shiver run through him.<br/><br/>"So how does this ritual work, exactly?" Will asked with a pleasant grin.<br/><br/>"First, we strip. Then, we <em>grapple</em>, a fight to determine which of us is the receiving party for the initial consummation."<br/><br/>Something about that was fascinating, Riker thought, to figure out who was topping through a fight of dominance. The mirror Worf explained the whole thing so awkwardly, as if he was nervous to approach the subject of sex without hiding behind metaphors.<br/><br/>It was so bittersweet, so familiar. It was a distraction he didn't need.<br/><br/>There was something that had always appealed to Will in the primal convergence of violence and sex in Klingon mating rites. Thankfully, the rest had helped him recover from the mental strain he'd been through, so he was in a good physical state to give it his best.<br/><br/>The alternate Worf leaned forward and unlocked his cuffs. As Riker massaged the soreness out of his wrists, the Klingon gave him an appraising glance.<br/><br/>"Your uniform is unusual, but familiar." He noted.<br/><br/>Will had seen the odd uniforms that people wore here, sort of a tunic and sash with leggings. They had Starfleet colors, but were otherwise completely strange to him.<br/><br/>"I could say the same about you." Riker laughed. "Despite the colors, your uniform has a distinct Klingon flavour to it."<br/><br/>Instead of the varied tunics worn by everyone else Riker had seen, Worf's ensemble was clearly influenced by his heritage, draped in armor and furs. It was Klingon, in a way that was <em>more</em> than Worf's uniform in Riker's world.<br/><br/>"Are we here to gossip about fashion, or are we here to fight?" Worf huffed, taking a step back, and beginning to remove his uniform.<br/><br/>Riker followed suit, sneaking surreptitious glances at the mirror Worf while he pulled off his regulation uniform. As expected, the Klingon had a warrior's body. Will thought that this man looked even more muscular than <em>his</em> Worf, but it was hard to tell, since his shipmate was always wearing the classic uniform that hid his body shape, and that Klingon chain-mail sash that drew the eye always distracted from the shape of the man.<br/><br/>They were down to underwear, and Riker took Worf's cue to keep going until they were completely nude - they wore no armor - this was a true test of raw strength and hand-to-hand prowess. Briefly, Will thought about the Worf back home, and how he would hold up in a fight like this. Riker had no doubt that the mirror Worf must be at least more alert - he came from a much more hostile environment, from what little he'd seen, and it must have kept his instinct as keen as the edge of a blade.<br/><br/>Since they were naked anyway, Riker didn't feel too guilty about sneaking a peek at the alternate Worf beneath the armor. He was heavily muscled, and looked intensely strong, the lines of his chest blending into a well chisled abdomen, and strong, sinewy legs. Even flaccid, his cock looked different than a human member, and Will was already eager for a better look.<br/><br/>(And a touch, and a taste, and more.)<br/><br/>Next, Worf retrieved a bottle of exotic looking oil from a bedside table, and explained that they needed to slick down with the substance before they fought. It wasn't unlike the ancient human customs of Sparta or Rome, and Riker felt oddly comfortable about that cultural similarity. Maybe warriors were alike all over the galaxy, in some ways at least.<br/><br/>After what felt like ages, they were finally ready, prepared for the ancient ritual of <em>Bat'leth-LoDni'tay</em>.<br/><br/>They circled each other like vultures, sizing up the opponent with a well-trained eye for detail. Worf broke first, and lunged at Riker with a low growl that took him by surprise - his version of the Klingon had never made such a sound. The surprise wasn't enough to take off Riker's edge, and he dodged to the side, landing an open-handed punch on the attacker's back, near where a kidney would be, on a human. <br/><br/>Instead of falling, or retreating a few steps as Riker had expected, Worf rolled with the momentum, sweeping Will's feet right from under him. The human landed on his back, and rolled to the side before Worf could pin him, taking the chance to get back on his feet and retreat a few steps before the next volley.<br/><br/>"Not bad. Your reflexes are good, for a human." The mirror Worf grinned in a way that bared his teeth. "I might not regret making you my bonded, after all."<br/><br/>Will set his jaw and adjusted his stance. He wanted to prove to this version of Worf that he could be trusted, relied upon, even. The last thing he needed was to be considered a burden - not if he wanted to survive long enough to get home. <br/><br/>This time around, Riker struck first, lashing out with a powerful punch to Worf's jaw. It was hard not to pull his punches, even though he knew he had to give it his all. He could have gone for any of the targets they showed you in the academy, throat, eyes, nose, but he kept aiming for non-lethal targets, seeing his friend and colleague instead of an enemy to be bested.<br/><br/>As it was, the Klingon's head snapped to the side, and it barely slowed him down. He grasped the hand that had punched, and before Will could step back, used it to drag him forward, and right into a powerful gut punch that left the human reeling. He dropped to a knee, coughing, and Worf took the opportunity to tackle him, pinning both hands to the ground, and keeping Riker down with the weight of his body.<br/><br/>"<em>Yield</em>." The Klingon growled, and it sent something like a pleasant shiver down Riker's spine, to pool in his stomach. Instead of giving into the urge to do just that, Will snapped his head up, right into Worf's nose.<br/><br/>Worf reeled back, gasping, and Riker switched their positions, until <em>he</em> was the one holding the <em>Klingon</em> down. Much to the human's surprise (and, okay, a little bit of admiration) Worf didn't need a distraction to overpower Will. He just <em>did</em>, forcing him back with brute strength, and taking his wrists in hand with the kind of grip that would bruise.<br/><br/>(And Riker would be lying if he said the thought of that didn't go right to his cock.)<br/><br/>A thin trickle of blood was dripping from Worf's nose, and Will was glad he'd aimed well enough to hit the nose, and not the tough forehead ridge that Klingons were known for - that was asking for a headache. He looked like a god of war, bloodied and vicious, and Riker liked it. He liked it an awful lot.<br/><br/>"I will tell you again. <em>Yield</em>." Worf growled, from low in his chest, and this time, Will leaned his head back, exposing the column of his throat in the most instinctual kind of surrender. He relaxed under Worf, flushed and open-mouthed, with his eyes all wide and blue.<br/><br/>The Klingon gave a little hum of appreciation, and leaned forward, nuzzling at the place where Riker's jaw met his throat, <em>scenting</em> it. Will was almost afraid to speak, afraid to break the primitive spell that had settled over them like a veil.<br/><br/>"I accept your surrender." Worf finally said, pulling back to get a good look at the human lying prone beneath him. Riker could feel the Klingon's erection, warm, and pulsing, and getting harder by the minute. He looked up at Worf through his eyelashes, giving a lopsided grin.<br/><br/>"Then shall we get on to the main event?"<br/><br/>"I still can't believe you're willing." Worf muttered. In reply, Riker slid his eyes down to examine the Klingon cock that was lying heavy on his stomach, burgundy red, and oddly ridged, a texture that looked fascinating. Will wondered what it would feel like inside him, and hoped he'd get to find out.<br/><br/>"Oh, I'm <em>willing</em>." The human laughed, a throaty chuckle, and wished he had the use of his hands, or his mouth, some way to show this alternate Worf just how willing he really was. Instead, he gave his best smolder, and licked his bottom lip.<br/><br/>Worf gave a barely perceptible shudder, and Riker felt his cock twitch where it lay, and knew his own was doing the same. Quickly, the Klingon rose, and took the bottle of oil back in hand, splashing some out into his palm, and slowly stroking it along his erection. He tossed the corked bottle to Riker with his free hand.<br/><br/>"For a Klingon, it would be enough for the dominant party to use the oil. I'm lead to believe you humans are more fragile." Worf commented, and Will felt something like tenderness roll around in his chest.<br/><br/>"I'm grateful for your consideration." He said honestly. In truth, the harder Worf got, the bigger he seemed to grow, and even with his practice on human males, Riker wasn't sure he could handle <em>that</em> monstrosity without a certain degree of prep. <br/><br/>(But what a challenge!)<br/><br/>Worf watched, entranced, as Will slicked up his hand with a generous splash of oil, and worked two fingers into himself, stretching. He added a third, and the sensation of fullness sent a pleasant rush to his cock, like a prelude of things to come. At the Klingon's somewhat bewildered look, Riker explained.<br/><br/>"We humans are very <em>resilient</em>. I can take nearly anything with enough preparation."<br/><br/>Worf's eyes widened, and he nodded almost appreciatively. "Fascinating."<br/><br/>He'd almost expected to split this human open, to tear him apart with his first thrust. But the stranger on the Enterprise seemed confident and at ease with the thought of taking Worf's cock, despite what seemed like incompatible anatomy. After another finger, and a good deal of stretching, Riker was satisfied, and looked up at Worf with a mixture of lust and excitement.<br/><br/>"How do you want me?" He asked, and the Klingon visibly shuddered. The thought of this man, this breakable yet determined human, looking at him with those eager eyes, and such complete submission. It was utterly delectable, and Worf felt himself nearly throb with arousal. It set his blood on fire.<br/><br/>"On your back." He finally said, and swallowed hard when the human obliged, sprawling out with his legs spread obscenely.<br/><br/>From the angle, Will got a better look at Worf's member; thicker at the base, and swelling out to small rounded ridges in the middle, all arranged in neat spiraling rows, before tapering off to a mushroom headed tip, not unlike a human cock. It wasn't as long as some human members, but much wider in girth. Riker couldn't help but grin a little, flushing with excitement.<br/><br/>Lining himself up, Worf slowly slid the first inch or so into the tight warmth of the human's body, gasping in pleasurable surprise. Will let out a little sound, and hiked one leg over the Klingon's shoulder to get a better angle.<br/><br/>"Already so thick," he murmured.<br/><br/>"Still so <em>tight</em>." Worf retorted, and moved again, pressing further, and relishing the sounds Riker was making as he felt the first ridges slide in.<br/><br/>"Oh, fuck. Oh, Worf." The human breathed, stretched just enough to burn a little, though it wasn't unpleasant. It was satisfying, and the texture was like something Riker had only felt from toys before. But this was real, and every little ridge on Worf's cock was pulsing with his blood flow. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, and the more Worf gave, the more he wanted.<br/><br/>"<em>More,</em>" Riker murmured. "I can handle it, I need <em>more</em>, Worf."<br/><br/>The Klingon felt something come over him, an animalistic instinct, the need to dominate, and conquer. He leaned in, driving his cock deeper into Will, who gave a little hiss of pain. It gave Worf pause, but the human chuckled, and looked up at him through those heavy lashes with a grin.<br/><br/>"A bit of a stretch, but it's a good thing." Riker breathed out. "Keep going."<br/><br/>Worf wasn't sure what he'd do if the human had told him to stop - two instincts warred within him, the need to protect his bonded, and the need to complete the ritual now that it had begun. He wasn't sure he <em>could</em> stop, now that he'd started.<br/><br/>A last push brought their hips flush, and Worf nearly broke his Klingon stoicsm. It was <em>deliriously</em> good, so good to be buried this deep in Will, clenching and pulsing around him. Worf was compelled to mark him, to claim him, to leave a sign to all the hostile forces on the ship that this human was <em>his</em>, and to harm him brought down the wrath of both of them, together.<br/><br/>With a low growl, he leaned down, and bit the side of Will's throat with a low growl, right at the junction of neck and jaw, so high that no uniform would hide it. Riker let out a low moan that sounded more like pleasure than pain, and canted his hips, seeming to clench around Worf in a way that was positively blissful.<br/><br/>When the Klingon began to pull out, Riker couldn't hold back a quiet whine, even though he knew it was just a part of the process. The emptiness lasted only a moment, before Worf began to set a pace, snapping his hips in a slow thrust. Will nearly keened in pleasure as he felt the unique texture of an alien cock against his prostate. He slid the other leg over Worf's shoulder to deepen the angle, and that was even better. Arms wrapped around the Klingon's neck like a lifeline, he bucked his hips into the friction between their stomachs as the Klingon nearly bent him in half with the force of his thrusts.<br/><br/>"<em>Oh</em>, oh fuck, Worf, <em>Worf</em>," Riker moaned, flushed and inviting, and hearing his name on the human's tongue made Worf nearly mad with need. He sped up his pace, and Will thrust up into the slick space between their stomachs, coming with a groan as he splattered them both. The tightness from Riker's orgasm pulled Worf over the edge, and he came with a primal growl, thrusting one last time and then stilling, draped over Will bonelessly, and still so hopelessly entangled together.<br/><br/>"Fantastic." Riker murmured drowsily. He looked to be one yawn away from falling asleep on the carpet. With anyone else, Worf wouldn't care, he wouldn't feel sympathy or anything else for some poor fool sleeping on the floor. But this one. This one was his bonded now, for better or worse, and they were inextricably linked by rite and ritual. <br/><br/>"You're the most Klingon-like human I've ever met." Worf muttered, slowly rolling to his feet, and grabbing a box of tissues from a drawer to clean them both off with. Riker just laughed, and replied in Worf's own language, with a grin.<br/><br/>"<em>YIn DayajmeH 'oy' yISIK. </em>To understand life, endure pain."<br/><br/>"That is an old proverb," Worf noted. "While <em>our</em> commander Riker was strong, <em>you</em> are strong in a different way."<br/><br/>"Which way is that?" Will asked with a little smile, and Worf huffed.<br/><br/>"When I find out, I'll tell you."</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a tenuous situation they'd found themselves in, and Worf didn't know what to think about his new bonded. He kept expecting the human to act like a human female, simpering and poisonous, or a human male, swaggering and brazen. But he was neither of those stereotypes. He was just Will, and that presented a whole host of other problems.<br/><br/>Worf did not know whether to be proud of him or afraid of him, and so he was a little of both. They had not shared a bed since their first coupling, even though Riker seemed to be willing, and even eager for it.<br/><br/>The problem was with Worf.<br/><br/>He wasn't sure how to feel about Will, especially in the dangerous life he was living now. In this place without honor, where promotions were achieved by assassination, and a Betazoid Inquisitor read traitors' minds like a data pad, any perceived weakness would be jumped upon, like jackals on wounded prey.<br/><br/>Everyone on the ship knew that somehow, their Klingon Ambassador had laid claim to the man who'd just appeared one day on board, looking exactly like a younger, less hardened version of their recently deceased Commander Riker. What people couldn't wrap their heads around was the how, why, when, and other salacious details. At first, Worf refused to let him leave the quarters. (<em>His</em> quarters now. <em>Theirs</em>. Their <em>shared</em> quarters.) And Will had been alright with that. He was disoriented and nervous, and while some part of him was anxious to protect Worf in the dangerous world outside, another part needed time to think and plan and speculate.<br/><br/>He wasn't allowed to access the Imperial equivalent of Memory Alpha, but he had access to some of the Net, and there were many books lining the shelves of the quarters. Real, paper books, with covers and pages. Will couldn't remember the last time he'd read a <em>real book</em> in his adult life. There were books about Klingons, and the Terran Empire, war epics and poetry from both cultures.<br/><br/>Worf came back to his quarters one day after shift, and Riker was reading a volume with intense concentration.<br/><br/>"What has you so interested?" He asked with a grimace. He wasn't sure whether to be nervous or pleased.<br/><br/>"I don't remember it word for word, but your Iliad is the same as ours." Will murmured. "My favorite quotes are the same at least. And the basic gist of the story."<br/><br/>"Surprising." Worf replied. He ordered some diluted Klingon ale from the replicator, and came to sit next to the human.<br/><br/>"I know. It's unfathomable to me how the culture is so different, but this ancient war epic has remained the same across both timelines." Riker replied, and he set aside the book with a sigh.<br/><br/>"From what you have told me, your universe is much weaker, and more fragile. It <em>would</em> surprise me there were any warriors at all..." Worf huffed.<br/><br/>"I sense a 'but' in that statement."<br/><br/>"<em>But</em>," Word obliged him, with a wry smile. "I have proof, before me. In you."<br/><br/>"You've never seen me fight." Will retorted. "Well, except for our spar, and that hardly counts as anything."<br/><br/>"But we have <em>spoken</em>. And you have right thinking, the mindset of a Klingon warrior." Suddenly, he had a thought.<br/><br/>"Tell me one of your favorite quotes." Worf asked, nodding towards the book that was set aside.<br/><br/>"When Ulysses gives his speech to King Agamemnon," Riker answered quickly, rattling off his favorite part of the quote by heart. <br/><br/>'"Wretch, you should have commanded some other and baser army, and not been ruler over us - to whom Jove has allotted a life of hard fighting from youth to old age, till we every one of us perish.'"<br/><br/>"Ah, see!" The mirror Klingon exclaimed, smacking the table top with his palm. "It is just as the proverb says. 'Klingons are born, live as warriors, then die.' You have an understanding of the truth that exceeds your species."<br/><br/>"I think it's time I left these quarters with you." Riker said, quietly. "What good am I to you as a sword brother if I can't watch your back among the other crew members?"<br/><br/>"I can't allow that." Worf replied immediately, hardly thinking about the response.<br/><br/>"I can't live the rest of my life in this room. It isn't feasible." Will reasoned. "If you were <em>ashamed</em> to include a human in the rite of <em>Bat'leth-LoDni</em>' -"<br/><br/>"I am <em>not</em> ashamed!" Worf insisted, flushing beneath his beard, and looking away. "It is the opposite. We have just met, and the more I learn about you, the more attached I become."<br/><br/>His jaw was set, and Will was taken aback by the storm of Worf's fury, directed not at him, but at the world beyond.<br/><br/>"If anyone discovered how much I am growing to care for you... As an outsider, you would be assumed to be the weaker link in our partnership. I cannot protect you from that."<br/><br/>"Then tell me about the state of the universe. Tell me about this empire, and this <em>crew</em>, so that I'll be prepared to help you." Riker insisted, and Worf gave a brisk, sharp nod. He sat back down at the coffee table, on a floor cushion across from Will.<br/><br/>"The modern era of the Terran Empire began with Spock's Rebellion. The half-human son of a Vulcan leader sparked a civil war over reforms to Imperial law and practice." Worf began. "It crippled the Empire for years, and gave the Klingons a chance to sweep in and make massive victories, where before, there had been only stalemates."<br/><br/>Riker remembered reading about something like that in the Federation archives back in Starfleet Academy. It was the Federation's first and only encounter with this paralell universe - until now.<br/><br/>"Eventually, control was restored, the rebels eliminated, and the war with the Klingon Empire was back on. We would have destroyed each other, were it not for the timely invasion of the Cardassians and Borgs. We were forced to unite against a common enemy, and a treaty was signed."<br/><br/>"And that's where your rights under Imperial Law were established?" Will confirmed.<br/><br/>"Yes. We are in the middle of a war on two fronts, and should the Captain instate martial law on this ship, all my supposed privileges as a Klingon Embassador will mean nothing." Worf growled, rage evident in his tone, his eyes, and even in the stiffness of his posture. <br/><br/>"Even now, Picard <em>flaunts</em> his power - it is illegal according to the Klingon Accords, but what am I to do about it? Challenging the Captain, as would be proper on a Klingon ship, is seen as <em>insubordination</em> here. Running like a child to my superiors on the Klingon side would be seen as cowardly by both. If I took the Imperial route and had him assassinated, I would lose any honor I once had claim to."<br/><br/>"I see your dilemma." The human noted wryly.<br/><br/>"<em>Now</em> you see the kind of warrior you are bonded to. The kind of <em>protection</em> I offer you." Worf retorted bitterly. "The <em>best</em> I can hope for, is a chance that when they turn on me, I can fight my way out, or die honorably."<br/><br/>"All I can offer in return is the promise to fight alongside you." Riker murmured. "It isn't much, but if you decide we're fighting, that's what I'll do."<br/><br/>Normally, in his own universe, Will would be the one taking charge, making plans and giving orders. Here, he was a stranger in a strange land, completely alone, except for the Klingon he'd impulsively attached himself to, in a moment that could have been sheer panic, or utter genius - only time would reveal which one.<br/><br/>"Tell me about the crew."<br/><br/>"There's Inquisitor Troi, who you've already met. She can read minds, though it's limited to emotions, feelings, the subconscious. That sort of thing."<br/><br/>Will grimaced. "Yes, I gathered that from our... Interview."<br/><br/>"Then there's Commander Data. He's Captain Picard's protégé. No one knows his backstory, but he's physically strong, and not only intelligient, but <em>cunning</em>. He's also an <em>android</em>."<br/><br/>Riker remembered how Data had looked at him while he was trying to think, kneeling on the bridge with a migraine, and having those eyes bore into him, like the android wanted to <em>vivisect</em> him. The memory made him shudder.<br/><br/>"Then there's the chief engineer, LaForge. He's a genius, but he achieved his greatest ambition when he got this job, so you don't have to worry about getting stabbed in the back over nothing." Worf sighed. "Don't cross him though. If LaForge wanted you dead, no one would ever find your body unless he wanted them to."<br/><br/>"Anything else I should know?" Will asked. "Any problems with my deceased counterpart and the crew?"<br/><br/>"For one, Inquisitor Troi." Worf grimaced. "Troi was the one who blinded the other Riker's left eye."<br/><br/>"From what I gathered during the mental probe, I think she's too curious about me to hate me outright for something my doppelganger did." Will mused. "It might have been different if I weren't such a novelty."<br/><br/>"That's the one thing we can rely on." Worf huffed in reply. "The fact you're a wild card in the game."<br/><br/>"Well, that's not <em>entirely</em> true." Riker retorted, and though he didn't really feel it, he shot the mirror Worf a dazzling grin. "After all, we can rely on each other, right?"<br/><br/>"... I hope so." Worf finally said, after a long moment of silence, and he met Riker's eyes steadily for the first time since he'd arrived from his shift. Will's smile faltered, not having quite the charming effect it had in his universe. <br/><br/>He gave a little half-smile instead, a bit nervous. A little sad. But he didn't dare break eye contact. He hadn't ignored the fact that Worf seemed completely uninterested in sleeping with him, not since that first time when they'd completed the ritual together, slick and hot, with nothing between them but centuries of tradition. Now, it seemed as though they were worlds apart, and it made Will crazy to even feel this <em>entitled</em> to affection from a man he'd barely met. But it wasn't as though they were total strangers - after all, this was <em>Worf</em>. (Not <em>his</em> Worf, but still,)<br/><br/>If he had to survive and get home all by himself, with no allies and no information, constantly looking over his shoulder - there was no way he'd pull it off, and the thought of it was... Devastating.<br/><br/>"Please." Will murmured, quiet and solemn, already feeling the beginning burn of despair in the pit of his stomach. "Please let me help you. To share the burden. I want to be <br/>someone you can rely on."<br/><br/>Will rose from the cushion on the floor, and transitioned into a traditional Klingon bow, knees on the floor, with heels tucked behind, and head bowed.<br/><br/>"As your sworn partner, I will do anything you ask of me."<br/><br/>It seemed that asking in the traditional way was the best method for getting this Worf's attention. Riker saw the Klingon shudder as he made his request. Then he rose from his seat, swallowed the last of his ale in a single gulp, and lifted Will's chin from the bow, meeting his eyes.<br/><br/>"I accept your offer, my sword brother." He stated, a low rumble that sent heat running through Riker's blood, like a memory of what they had done, what they had sworn. An anticipation of their future, of what was to come. He now knew the meaning of the popular Klingon endearment; <em>the memory of you sings in my blood</em>.<br/><br/>He shivered.<br/><br/>"When you ask like that, I can hardly deny you." Worf murmured, deep voice rumbling out of his chest.<br/><br/>Will licked his lips, and tried another of his wicked smiles. "Shall I show you what we humans can do with our mouths?" <br/><br/>Worf shuddered at that, and he looked at the other man with a smoulder that could melt titanium. Without another word, Will reached behind him, and untied the sash that wrapped around the waist of the regulation tunic. He tugged down the silk trousers, and looked up at Worf with lidded eyes, his eyelashes casting dark shadows on his cheekbones. Then, he peeled down the Klingon's briefs with slow and careful deliberation. Despite the underlying fear and anxiety about the world he now found himself in, Will had no fear of Worf, even <em>this</em> Worf, and he relished the close look he got at the Klingon's cock. <br/><br/>It was a view he wasn't afforded the previous time, and Riker liked the shade of the member, just darker than Worf's skin tone, and tinged red with blood, especially now that he was half-hard, just from the anticipation of the thing. He wrapped his lips around the tip of the heavy cock and swirled his tongue around the head, before bobbing down to slick as much as he could reach. Worf ran a hand through the human's hair, and he let out a little groan of pleasure.<br/><br/>He wasn't fully erect yet, and if Will remembered correctly, the full size of that cock was half a foot long and thick as a woman's forearm. He was barely able to fit his mouth around the damn thing <em>now</em>. Changing tactics, he moved his way down by placing sloppy kisses all along the side, tonguing each of the ridges individually, little raised nubs that spiralled around the middle of the member in a perfect circle.<br/><br/>"<em>K'est</em>..." Worf cursed under his breath, and tightened his fingers impulsively in Riker's hair. Will chuckled, if he recalled correctly, <em>K'est</em> was the Klingon equivalent of "fuck," and it meant he was doing <em>well</em>. He pulled away, mouth sliding off of Worf's cock with a wet slurp, and the other man relaxed his grip on Will's soft brown hair.<br/><br/>"What is it?" The Klingon asked, looking a little dazed, but mostly amused.<br/><br/>"An experiment." Riker smirked, and then he ran his tongue along the palm of his left hand, lavishing attention on each of his fingers in a way that left them slick and glistening. Then, he slid his mouth back around the tip of Worf's cock, and used his hand to encircle what he couldn't quite manage. Finally, he stopped teasing and set a real pace, bobbing up and down, and using his hand like a extension of his mouth as he ran his tongue along as much of the Klingon's length that he could manage.<br/><br/>"<em>K'est</em> - ! Ah, fuck. <em>Will</em>." Worf exclaimed, then shuddered, then moaned. He slid both hands into Riker's hair, and gripped again, (first lightly, then harder.) He looked down at the human and gauged his reaction as he rocked his hips, pulling Will down further than was probably comfortable around his cock. Riker gagged expectedly, but his eyes were amused, so Worf did it again, because some part of him was pleased to put Will off guard, to show his dominance. The human didn't seem to mind, and he relaxed his throat, letting Worf decide the pace.<br/><br/>(Although he didn't push his luck, Worf knew that if he pushed too far, Will wouldn't have any way to watch his teeth, there simply wouldn't be any <em>room.)</em><br/><br/>Riker still used his hand as an extension of his mouth, and it made the excitement all that much sweeter when Worf looked down at him, cheeks flushed and teary-eyed, with wide blown pupils that almost drowned out the blue of his eyes. It was truly a sight to behold, and Worf didn't even notice Will's other hand until it snaked around to grip one of his balls, rolling it, squeezing lightly, then switching off to the other. His eyes were filled with laughter, even if his mouth was occupied. <br/><br/>Worf was reduced to primal noises, too desperate to even form words as he held tighter, barely resisting the sudden urge to just <em>thrust</em>, to fuck into his partner's mouth like a man possessed. The way Riker looked up at him with flushed pink cheeks and wet blue eyes didn't help. His brown hair was mussed, and the edges of his beard tickled just a bit around Worf's erection.<br/><br/>Then, it seemed as though he read the Klingon's mind, and his entire posture relaxed - both hands wrapped around the base of his cock, and Riker ran his tongue around the tip before he hollowed out his cheeks and <em>sucked</em>. Worf groaned, low under his breath, and his hips stuttered against his will - unable to resist thrusting into the warm wetness of the human's mouth. He felt the scrape of blunt teeth and he didn't care, the little choked sound that Will made then was almost enough to send him right over the edge, but he forced himself to slow, easing out, languidly rocking back in while Riker's hands stroked what his mouth couldn't reach. <br/><br/>The self control it required was <em>astonishing</em>.<br/><br/>Riker pulled away, slipping off of the alien member with a mischievous grin, and it left Worf feeling frustrated and bewildered.<br/><br/>"Worf." He said. "I can tell you're holding back. Don't. I offered to do this because I wanted you to relax, not to torture yourself."<br/><br/>His lips were slick with saliva, and with the pre-come that Klingons secreted as a lubricant. It was a damn temptation - good enough to devour, so he took his bonded's advice and thrust hard, letting the sweet little sounds that Riker made wash over him in a wave. The human choked when Worf hit the barrier at the back of his throat, and let out quiet little moans and whimpers, muffled around the cock in his mouth. It was delicious, absolutely <em>wicked</em>, and Worf rocked his hips, finally falling into his climax with a little shudder, still holding tightly to the human's hair, dragging him as close as he could possibly get. <br/><br/>His cock gave a satisfied little twitch and finally went soft when the Klingon saw Riker's adam's apple bob - he'd swallowed, and something about that was intensely erotic. Worf pulled out, grabbing a tissue to clean up with, and he was somewhat concerned when Will stood and went swiftly to the restroom. The Klingon went to the doorway, and heard the sounds of retching, from where Riker was leaned over the toilet.<br/><br/>"Ah, damn. I'm sorry." The human chuckled, a bit shaken. "I - I uh, I was less than prepared for that."<br/><br/>Worf raised an eyebrow curiously, and Will continued.<br/><br/>"That wasn't - that wasn't like human semen. It burned." He blushed, a bit embarrassed. "I just wasn't prepared."<br/><br/>"Fortunately, the ph levels aren't harmful." Worf replied. "It's only slightly more acidic than Earth vinegar."<br/><br/>"That explains the burn." Will murmured wryly, and looked back up at Worf, suddenly feeling shy and nervous again, awkwardly getting up off the tile floor and adjusting his trousers. They were silk, because Worf had given him a set of the uniforms they wore here, but he was beginning to regret wearing nothing underneath like he did back home. The swishy material was nothing but trouble.<br/><br/>"And what about you?" Worf asked, glancing down at the tent in Will's pants, before raising his eyes slowly, and looking up into Riker's blue gaze with intense concentration.<br/><br/>"I'll be fine in a minute or two," Riker assured. "This wasn't about me. It was for you."<br/><br/>"And what kind of sword brother would I be if I didn't... <em>Reciprocate</em>?" The Klingon murmured, advancing on Will until his back touched the cool bathroom wall, and there was no where else to go.<br/><br/>"And what did you have in mind?" Will asked, letting the natural smirk fall back into place, and forcing the nerves down, somewhere he couldn't feel them anymore. Worf leaned in, and lightly pressed his lips against the side of Will's throat, then ran his tongue along the mark he'd made three days ago, when they consummated their ritual.<br/><br/>"I want to mark you again. I want to show everyone on this damn Kah'less-forsaken ship that you're <em>mine</em>."<br/><br/>Will flushed behind his beard, and inclined his head to the side, exposing the column of his throat, and shivering at the touch of Worf's beard, ticklish along the line of his tunic.<br/><br/>"Yes." Worf murmured against his skin. "You're so compliant for me. So willing."<br/><br/>Riker shuddered again, and when Worf bit down, his cock twitched and his knees buckled. The Klingon helped him slide back down to the floor of the bathroom, and slotted his knee in between Will's thighs. He was trembling, flushed and pink, with his eyes still lidded and blue and inviting. When Worf sucked hard at the mark he'd made, Riker's hips snapped up, and he made a sound in the back of his throat, low and needy. He ground down against the friction of Worf's thigh, and the Klingon chuckled against his skin. <br/><br/>"You're already hard. Did you enjoy having my cock that much?"<br/><br/>"Yes." Will replied with a shit-eating grin, and rocked his hips as Worf bit down in another spot. He gave a low groan, grinding into the friction and closing his eyes in bliss. Worf sucked another bruise into the side of his throat, and growled quietly.<br/><br/>"After this, no one will <em>dare</em> touch you. Not the damn arrogant captain, not the Betazoid, not Picard's android lackey. No one but me."<br/><br/>"Fuck. Fuck, <em>Worf</em>. <em>Worf</em>-" Riker babbled, eyes closed and head lolled back, snapping his hips. <em>His</em> Worf would never say something so blatantly possessive - he had always been so shy and self-aware, too awkward in his own skin to be so brazen. He'd never get quite as rough as <em>this</em> Worf would either, and Riker knew that, despite the fact that he'd never actually slept with <em>his</em> universe's Worf. He was afraid of his own strength.<br/><br/>This version had no such qualms, and it was <em>very</em> hot.<br/><br/>He hit his climax hard, grinding down like a rutting animal against Worf's thigh. He cried out as he came, with an intensity that he'd never thought would come from just frottage alone. The friction was delicious, and he collapsed bonelessly against the Klingon, ignoring everything but the keen pain of the bites and the level beating of Worf's heart in his chest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will had been sleeping on the floor since the night they'd bonded. He'd had to strip the sofa of pillows, and use some of the floor cushions too, making a bed long enough for his legs to stretch out on. The sofa in the quarters was too small for his height.<br/><br/>The night they'd had sex again, Worf had invited him to come lay down in the bed afterwards, once they'd both recovered enough to stumble out of the restroom with flushed cheeks and tired muscles. The bed was perfectly long enough to stretch out in, and his legs tangled with Worf's, one of the Klingon's arms thrown over him. (It was the best rest he'd had since the accident that threw him there.)<br/><br/>For the first time since he'd come to the mirror universe, Riker felt like he might actually survive it. The despair that had built up like a living thing in the pit of his stomach had evaporated, leaving nothing behind but determination.<br/><br/>"Before we face the rest of the crew, I need to know the truth, Will." Worf had said, looking stern. "I want you to swear on your honor and on our bond that you answer truthfully."<br/><br/>Riker had closed his eyes, and thought about it. He wouldn't talk about Q, because to speak of that being to any member of this mirror world might be disasterous to the very fabric of space-time. If that twisted version of Picard got his hands on any member of the Q Continuum, it would be a nightmare, possibly even for his <em>own</em> universe.<br/><br/>"There is one matter that I <em>can't</em> speak about, even to one that I trust as much as you." Will finally replied. "Even under pain of torture, or the threat of death. Ask about anything but that one matter, and I'll answer as truthfully as I can."<br/><br/>"Are you truly William Riker?" Worf asked.<br/><br/>"Yes. I'm the son of Kyle Riker." Will answered truthfully.<br/><br/>"And you came from another, <em>parallel</em> dimension." Worf confirmed, and the human nodded. "How did you get here?"<br/><br/>"I don't know." Riker answered. "If I knew, I'd try to get home. The last thing I remember is getting on a transporter. Instead of my destination, I ended up here."<br/><br/>It was a partial untruth. He'd gotten into the transporter in order to beam down to a planet. Q had tried to stop him, and Riker suspected that <em>he</em> was the reason he'd ended up here. Worf seemed to be satisfied with that, but he gave a heavy sigh.<br/><br/>"And a Klingon in <em>your</em> dimension gave you the instructions for the <em>Bat'leth-LoDni'tay</em>." He stated in a tone that was half unbelieving, but a statement nonetheless.<br/><br/>"It was <em>you</em>, actually." Will murmured, and he thought that this bit of information couldn't hurt. "The Worf from <em>my</em> dimension."<br/><br/>The mirror Worf shook his head, grinning wryly. "He must have been as attracted to you as I was."<br/><br/>Riker quickly looked over at him, meeting the Klingon's eyes, and his cheeks grew warm.<br/><br/>"When you were first dragged out onto the bridge, looking disheveled and in pain, I thought your eyes were terribly blue. It was like a kind of magnetism." Worf huffed. "I was confused and angered when you spoke to me so brazenly, but I still wanted you."<br/><br/>On the fourth day since his arrival on the alternate Enterprise, Will finally left his new quarters, and his first stop was at the infirmary. He woke up with a fever, flushed and hot, and his skin was warm to the touch. Worf had oscillated between going to the infirmary or taking their chances, but he'd ultimately decided he'd buckle down and go with Riker to the Chief Medical Officer.<br/><br/>Will was intrigued to see Beverly Crusher there in the medical wing, just as she was on <em>his</em> Enterprise. She looked slightly different of course - Beverly was more weary, and looked older than her years - but it was her, nonetheless. Riker glanced to Worf for cues on how he should act, but the Klingon was just as stoic as ever. <br/><br/>"Dr. Crusher, you owe me a favor, and I must have your assistance."<br/><br/>Beverly narrowed her eyes at him.<br/><br/>"I refuse to do anything that goes against regulation," She began, but Worf interrupted.<br/><br/>"I am not asking you to break any rules, doctor. I just want you to witness our bond for Imperial records, and then give Riker a check-up."<br/><br/>"Yes, I'd heard about the <em>debacle</em> on the bridge recently." Beverly huffed, looking over Will with new eyes. "I had assumed it was just rumours. Something about Commander Riker coming back from the dead, and speaking Klingon. But now I see the rumours were true..."<br/><br/>"What's this about a bond?" The doctor continued, changing the subject.<br/><br/>"We are sword brothers, <em>Bat'leth-LoDni</em>'. Riker is mine, under Klingon Law. According to the treaty, he has the same rights in the Terran Empire as the wedded mate of an Ambassador."<br/><br/>Beverly wryly glanced at Will, and then scoffed, and typed something into her computer.<br/><br/>"It says in the records that for a bond like that to be valid, it requires a witness and a consummation." Beverly finally said, after reading for a moment. "Do you swear on your house's honor that the bond is valid?"<br/><br/>"I, Worf, son of Mogh, do swear on my honor that this bond is true, and was consummated." The Klingon replied solemnly.<br/><br/>"Then I hereby declare the bond as valid, and enter it into our records." The doctor replied smoothly, and typed some more, deft fingers tapping lightly at a keyboard. After a moment, she turned back to Worf, and put her hands on her hips.<br/><br/>"Your favour is repayed now, and we're even, Ambassador Worf." She said firmly. "Now, you said something about an examination."<br/><br/>Will stepped forward. <br/><br/>"That would be me. I woke up with what feels like a mild fever. Cold symptoms."<br/><br/>Beverly looked at his throat, unimpressed.<br/><br/>"Are there any <em>other</em> injuries I should know about?" The doctor asked sardonically. Will blushed, and she wasn't even done yet. "There's no tearing? No internal or external bleeding? No-"<br/><br/>"<em>No</em>." He and Worf spoke at the same time, and their eyes met briefly, almost as if they'd surprised themselves, and each other. Beverly rolled her eyes and ran a scanner over Riker's body. She checked her tricorder, and perused the readings.<br/><br/>"It seems you've got a common cold." The doctor explained. "If you <em>really</em> came from another dimension, you probably don't have the antibodies you need to fight off <em>our</em> strains of viruses and infections."<br/><br/>"If you don't believe I'm William Riker, you can run a DNA test." Will replied to the doctor's unimpressed glances.<br/><br/>"I believe you're Riker, all right. It's the dimensional travel I have a hard time believing." Beverly retorted. Then, she sighed. "But wherever you're from, you're here in this shithole now, and may God have mercy on your soul."<br/><br/>"We don't need mercy." Worf muttered. "We either succeed, or we die with honor. There are no other options."<br/><br/>Beverly just scoffed, and turned back to the computers, a bold move. No one turned their back on anyone here, not unless they wanted to get stabbed from behind.<br/><br/>Riker wasn't sure he'd ever get over the stares, or the whispers that burst around him like ripples in a pool. Like the minor earthquakes leading up to a volcanic eruption. When they walked together into any room, all conversation stopped, and then started up again in a bubbling murmur. Worf had given him one of the standard issue daggers that all staff on an Imperial starship carried. It made him feel marginally safer when tucked into the sash of his tunic, and he didn't hesitate to brandish it when people (or nosy androids) came too close.<br/><br/>Data was continually an obstacle to Will's peace of mind on the ship. He was curious, sadistic, and completely loyal to the mirror Picard. There were rumors among the crew that he was responsible for the death of the other Riker, though reasons varied depending on who you asked. Dr. Crusher said he wanted the second in command postition. Some young punks in engineering thought the late Commander Riker had gotten too ambitious, and Data had ended him before he became a threat to the captain.<br/><br/>Whatever the reason, Data showed no open hostility to Will, and in fact seemed to be deeply curious about him, in a sadistic mockery of <em>his</em> Data's interest in all things human. Fortunately, Riker didn't have to spend much time around him. Most of his time was spent with Worf, in the ambassador's office adjoining their quarters. Worf didn't actually spend much time on the bridge, and it was a stroke of luck that he was there on the day Riker arrived. A stroke of luck that Will thanked the stars for, because without it, where would he be now? Being tortured by the mirror Data? Stabbed by the caricature of Deanna? Sucked out into the vacuum of space by the alternate Picard?<br/><br/>He tried to make himself useful, because despite the gruff and odd sort of kindness he'd been shown by Worf, he still half expected to wake up one day in a cell in the brig. He didn't know what their relationship was to each other, and whether there was a way to sever the bond, or to drive a wedge between them, and he wanted to make himself invaluable, for the sake of self preservation. So he organized the bookshelves and sharpened the ceremonial <em>bat'leth</em> on the walls of the quarters and office. He used some techniques from his own universe to get the replicator to make a good approximation of Klingon dinners, so spicy they made your eyes water and your lips burn.<br/><br/>One day, it struck him that he was doing the same things he'd done for his father, back during those cold winters that never seemed to end, cooking because Kyle Riker couldn't be bothered. Once he realized, he felt sick to his stomach and decided to pass on lunch from the replicator. He cursed himself for getting stranded in an alternate dimension (even though there wasn't a damn thing he could have changed), and for falling into patterns that he thought he'd grown out of. A quiet little voice in the back of his mind whispered about deep breathing, and dealing with trauma instead of hiding it deep inside himself until it got too big to control. That was how he felt now, like the memory and the dread would eat him alive.<br/><br/>Worf found him crouched in the corner of the bedroom, with a heavy blanket wrapped around himself, it was dinner time, and for the first time since they'd come to an understanding, Will didn't have dinner on the table by the time he arrived. It didn't occur to him to be angry - Riker wasn't his <em>mate</em> exactly, and he wasn't a female. Worf had been making his own meals from the replicator for as long as he'd been on the godsforsaken I.S.S Enterprise, and it wasn't going to kill him to do it again.<br/><br/>(Even though Will made the best damn Klingon food you could get in Imperial space.)<br/><br/>There was no part of their relationship where they'd assigned roles and expectations, and the only thing they'd officially sworn was to rely on each other. No, Worf's first thought was to be worried - a desperate, panicked kind of temporary insanity, as he thought about all the things that could have happened to put his sword brother in this catatonic state.<br/><br/>"Will. Riker." Worf said, punctuating the words with a little shake of the man's shoulders. "What happened? Who did this to you? Are you hurt? Who must I slay for the redemption of your honor!?"<br/><br/>Riker's head snapped up, and his eyes focused.<br/><br/>"I was cold." He murmured, still a little distant, but coming back now.<br/><br/>With anyone else, he might have remarked dryly that the room's thermostat was right there on the wall, but this was <em>Will</em>. He was a bit naïve, but he was strong and clever, and wouldn't overlook such a simple thing. In the several days of their acquaintance, Riker had never done anything <em>foolish</em>.<br/><br/>"Why were you cold?" Worf asked instead, and Will's cheeks reddened. He answered the question with another question.<br/><br/>"Have you ever lived in a place where it snows most of the year, isolated from the rest of society?"<br/><br/>"Yes." Worf answered immediately, and Will gave him an appraising look. "There's a reason I was selected for the diplomatic mission. I spent more time on Earth in my childhood than most Klingons spend in their entire lives."<br/><br/>"Really?" Will replied, feeling himself relaxing by increments as he came back to the present. <em>His</em> version of Worf was raised on Earth. <br/><br/>"Yes. Near the end of the last war between the Terran and Klingon Empires, a ship was shot down over Russia, and any survivors were sent to a prison camp in Siberia." Worf explained. "My mother, father, and I, we were all slave laborers in the camp until the treaty was signed. One of the conditions was that all prisoners of war should be released, from both sides. Klingons don't usually take prisoners, but there were a few."<br/><br/>"So you see." Worf concluded. "I know about the cold."<br/><br/>Riker felt safe and aware enough to rest his head on Worf's shoulder. He was awash with relief, and some part of him knew that his universe's Worf would not understand the experience that had put him in the state he'd just been in. <em>That</em> Worf had been raised with a loving family, who had loved him just as much as their biological son. He wouldn't understand cruelty towards a child the way this Worf clearly did.<br/><br/>"You must teach me your replicator tricks." Worf insisted, now that Riker was fully in the present. "I will make you the spiciest <em>ghaw</em>, so hot, you shall never feel a chill again!"<br/><br/>Will laughed.<br/><br/>"Would you really kill someone in defense of my honor?" He asked, rising to his feet with a shaky sort of smile.<br/><br/>"Yes." Worf huffed. "I would festoon the bridge with their intestines, and flay them alive for their offense."<br/><br/>That was a disturbing image, but Worf said it with such earnest devotion that it just came across as sweet.<br/><br/>"Well, if anyone ever does offend my honor, you'll be the first to know."</p>
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